Chapter One: A Dawn in Fire
24th Frostfall, 4E 194, 8 Bells after Noon
Mandel Skjori, 18

He was sitting on his bed when it happened. His brother, Klargus, and his sister, Svelki, were with him. Their parents were outside, getting all the livestock in for the night. He and his siblings were talking about the weather, worried it might mean an early winter. Deep in the Pale, early winter was a grave matter. Even so, the conversation was lighthearted. They knew that come death or daedra, the divines would provide. They always did. Even after the great Skeever-Plague of 187, when half their stock was killed, the animals were breeding prolifically that spring. It was then that they heard it: the dull thud of hooves on snow. A moment later they heard shouting, and the terrified lowing of cattle. All three siblings rushed to the door, throwing it open. Mandel was the first to see them.

Riders, fast ones, with fire in their hands. They hurled torches at the roof of the house, setting it ablaze. The packed mixture of dung and straw was almost cruelly perfect for such a task. It caught almost instantly, and the flames were at least half the height of the house. He could see, when he forced himself to turn away, others driving away their cattle, setting fire to the chicken coop, even the mill. Mandel saw his father stumble through the snow, out of the darkness, pulling his mother behind him. His face was a mask of rage, his brow contorted in an inhuman anger, and he did something Mandel had never seen him do. He knew his father had the Battlecry, all Nords did, but he never thought he would use it. His father was a man of peace, a farmer and a devout follower of the teachings of Kyne. Some of the horses threw their riders, but the rest were almost unfazed.

Laughter, loud and cruel, erupted from the ranks of the horsemen. Mandel was almost ready to charge at them, no matter how suicidal, when suddenly, an arrow came whizzing out of the dark and struck his mother in the chest. His father, now mad with an emotion that defied description, a combination of anger and deep, deep sorrow, ran at the horsemen. Before he could do anything, though, a man who looked to be their leader rode forward and struck Mandel's father in the face with his sword. He was dead before he hit the ground. He had to be. The way he fell, it was final. Mandel felt this in his being, not knowing where the knowledge came from. All he knew was that he had to get what remained of his family away from here, away from these men. "Run!" He grabbed his siblings by their sleeves and pulled them with him, running like a wounded deer being chased.

And yet, chased he was not. When several of the riders made ready to pursue them, the leader held up his hand. "Let them go," he said, in a voice that spoke not of any race or heritage. Plain, unaccented Cyrodiilic. It was almost so perfect as to be unnerving. "I have plans for them, when the time comes. Let us leave, this cold is unbearable." He and his men rode away, away into the blackness of the autumn night.

Mandel was over the hill that surrounded his family's home when he heard an ear-splitting noise, like the noise a flag makes in the wind, only much, much louder. With this sound came a light, a blinding orange flash that shifted to a subtle glow. Mandel looked back towards the place he had called home, known since birth, and saw only destruction. He realized what had happened. The sacks of flour in the mill had exploded, as well as the many minuscule bits of flour and chaff on the cracks between the stones that the mill was built on.

He cried as he looked on, knowing that there was nothing left of his old life. He knew that for him, and his family, life was about to start anew. Klargus looked at him, his sweet blue eyes now widened in fear. Klargus was youngest, 16, and was both the largest and gentlest of the three. "What are we going to do, Mandel?" Svelki looked to him as well. She was the middle child, 17, and she had followed in the steps of her mother, learning basic Conjuration and Restoration spells. "I know that it is unfair, looking to you for guidance, when you must feel the same way we do, but we don't have anyone else to turn to. We trust you, Mandel. We will follow you, to the gates of Oblivion if we must." Mandel looked at his brother and sister, his tears drying on his face. "I'll tell you what we are going to do. We're going to find somewhere to sleep, and then we're going to retrieve what we can from home in the morning." All three dug themselves a hollow in the snow, and curled up, each using their cloak as a blanket. Mandel lay awake for hours. He may not have known it, but that fire would fuel his thirst for justice, and it would make him into the man he was inside: Dovahkiin.

This is a great start Rohirim!


And a very sad beginning. You really did a good job at describing the scene.


I can't wait for the story to continue

I wish I could write like this when I was fourteen years old! Godsdayum, horse lover! The intro was well done; the pace was good, not too rushed nor too slow, and the descriptions were vivid. :thumbs-up:

I wonder who those riders were, and what reason they have for attacking Mandel's family. My guess is that they're Thalmor; that's the vibe I got when reading the unaccented leader of the attackers.

So yeah!

I have to agree with Uleni here, extremely excellent write! Your detail is amazing! The tension is building with the tiniest foreshadowing - you did an amazing job on this! Awesome Write !!!

Welcome to the fic forums, Roh, AWESOME job !!!

Rohirrim, I’m glad you decided to write your story and share it here!

You’ve made a great start. As the others said, your details and action worked very well together, providing a lot of background while keeping up a fast pace. You established the dynamic between the three siblings with just a few sentences. Well done! Also I thought the dust explosion in the mill was a great detail.

I’m looking forward to this!

I like this!!!!

Wow!!...Fair dues, nice job!!...

Exciting start to what's sure to be an excellent tale!... ...

Well done!!...

Nice one!!...

*Applauds heartily*...

Been looking for a fanfic to follow from the start since I came back. I'm quite pleased to say I've found this one. Excellent work.

Rohirrim. I am pleasantly surprised by the start of this fanfic. You've done a great job with the descriptions and the individual characters that I wondered if you were deeply inspired.

Good work.

25th Frostfall, 4E 194, 7 of the Morning Watch
Mandel
He was the last awake. He could see Klargus and Svelki off in the distance by what remained of the farm. Standing up, he winced. His joints were quite stiff from the night spent on the hard ground, and his fingers and toes were almost completely numb. He pulled his cloak around him, finding comfort in the familiar cowhide folds. he set off down the hill, carefully so as not to slip on the slick snow. He eventually made it over to Klargus, grabbing his shoulder for balance, his feet sliding all about in the cold slush. His brother grabbed him by the waist, steadying him. It always surprised him how Klargus was so strong and yet so gentle. Mandel had seen him suffer Skeever bites while carrying the wretch outside rather than let his father kill it. He soon could stand on his own, and Klargus released him.

He saw Svelki on one knee, feeling the charred wooden beams of the house. "There was magic involved, Mandel. Those were no ordinary men. I am not Savos Aren, but I can tell that no log this size would have burnt so fast and so hot. It's been reduced to basic charcoal and dust, too fine a separation for a normal fire. The men who killed our parents had to have been soldiers of some sort, or very wealthy mercenaries." Mandel absorbed this information silently. He was not sure of Svelki's magical prowess, but he agreed on the fact that the men had definitely not been common raiders. "Have you checked the cellar?" The house had burnt down to its stone foundations, only anything in the cellar could have survived. "No, we waited for you." Mandel sighed a long sigh. "Well, nothing for it, let's go." It was strange to see the cellar in direct sunlight, unlit by torch or candle. Everything was sharper, more clear. They began rummaging through crates, looking for anything of use. They could mourn later. Now, they needed to survive.

Mandel walked to the back corner immediately. He knew what he was looking for. There it was: his Da's militia gear. It was a maille coat under a pale blue surcoat with the Star of the Pale emblazoned on it. It came with a helm, a rough steel kettle hat, and a set of boots, fine sealskin. The shield was simple, boards encircled in a metal ring. He wondered momentarily where the rest was, then he remembered. Of course. Da always kept the sword next to his bed, and the gloves with it. he dashed to the ground floor and looked around. He knew the gloves must have burnt away, but the sword... There! He reached for the handle, then recoiled so fast he thought he might break his arm. "Fokke!" The sword was still extremely hot from the fire, and the pain in his hand was intolerable. His eyes welled up, and his vision blurred. Then, oddly enough, it subsided. He looked at his hand, and to his amazement the burn and blisters were going away. He decided not to think to hard on it, hoping it was a blessing of the Divines and not the workings of a mad Daedric prince. He steeled himself, grasping the hilt and running past the threshold and plunging it into the snow as fast as he could. The sword steamed like a Dwemer automaton. As soon as the pain was bearable, he picked it up and smiled. The straight iron blade's dull glow was comforting, in a way. He neede no knight's steel. He was a Nord, and mountain iron was his metal. He braced himself on the blade like a cane as he stood up, and slowly walked back into the cellar to see what the others had gathered.

Svelki had gotten snowshoes, a pair of wooden skis, and several sealskin coats. Klargus had managed to find some dried beef and smoked herring in the barrels. After a bit of searching, they also found one of their mother's old spell tome collections, wrapped in a small bundle. They seemed pleased that Mandel had found the sword. It gave them hope, knowing that their Da was still protecting them in a way. Looking at the haul, Mandel nodded approvingly. "It seems that our only choice is to now make all haste to Dawnstar, then, and tell the Jar, what has happened." His family nodded, gave their assent, and began stuffing the pockets of several leather backpacks with all they could carry. When they were finished, Mandel started up the stairs. "Let's be off. To Dawnstar!"





Far away, in a stone fortress, a man waited and watched. He sat silently among the many other men with him. He stood, slamming his fist on the table. His companions fell silent as he spoke in the voice, that voice of nothing and yet everything. "They are on the move. We must stop the boy before he can realize his true destiny. We must seperate them. We ride tonight, my fellow Dragon Knights." He smirked as the room fell into chaos as each man tried to ready himself the fastest.

How the hell did Mandel manage to pick up that's sword, lol



So this is the work of mages, eh? I wonder who's after Mandel and his brothers...


Great write

-The sound of a thousand ascending thunderous voices fills the air as the story progresses-

Haaaaaa...

Heee...

Ahhhhhhhhhhh, ahhhhhhhh, ahhhhhhhhh, ahhhhhhhhhhh!

Dovakhiin, Dovakhiin, gobble magick start in!

Dovah high!

Dovah low!

Dovah Ali Babba!

Dovah me, Dovah you, Dovah up, Dovah down,

Dovakhiin, Dovakhiin, ah la la la da daaaaa!

Obviously I don't know the EXACT wording of the song...But I like the story! Svelki seems like a smart cookie!

I kinda thought the whole "fighting 12-ton fire-breathing lizards and winning" thing at least gave a general heat resistance.

There's a good point XD

Ooh, a subplot! This is well thought out and well written, Awesome job!

Nice expanding of the Skyrim wossname with the addition of snowshoes and skis... ...Absolutely makes sense the people with that much snow would have worked that out by now...Nicely done though...*Applauds*...

Loved the bit with the sword...Yes, I read the heat-resistance comment before I read the story, so that was all fine and dandy... ...I'd have just thought it was some latent and as yet untapped healing ability thing going on...Brilliantly done though...

Ooooh, Dragon Knights™!!...

And a boy with a Destiny™...Oh-ho-hooo yes!..

Looking forward to seeing where this goes...Properly excellently (good English Rob!) done there...

Nice one!!...

*Applauds heartily*...

Thanks a billion zillion to mALX, Liz, KoB, DE, Zalphon, and McBadgere, your feedback and kind words mean everything to me!

Please continue--I'm interested as to where this goes.

Welcome to the world of fan fic!

A cold evening assault culminates in a spectacular flour explosion - and the orphaning of three siblings. We learn that Mandel, the oldest, has been born of the Dragon!

The following morning, the trio manage to scavenge some survival gear. You then eavesdrop on the Dragon Knights, hinting that Mandel’s dova heritage is likely behind the raid on his family’s farm.

You’re off to a fine start as you wonderfully set the stage for what seems to be an epic Skyrim tale!

"[i]And we stand tall, sons of the snow, and we'll not fall under these blows...[i]"

I'm liking this a lot so far; the details you've included like the snow shoes and so forth are excellent for making the world feel more realistic and rounded, the characters seem cool and the dialogue strikes the perfect balance between being old-fashioned and authentically colloquial and still being legible. And we've got an interesting plot-hook as well with these Dragon Knight people. Friends of Miraak, by the sound of it.

Nice start, I enjoyed the details like Mustard did. Not only was their farm burned, but they had a mill that exploded. Snow shoes, the cellar surviving. All good stuff. These Dragon Knights are interesting. It's clear the oldest son is going to be the Dragonborn, and these knights seem to know it.

I liked the mention of Klargus and the skeevers. When you show something like that rather than just saying he’s gentle it makes the character real. I’m already rooting for kind-hearted Klargus.

His eyes welled up, and his vision blurred. Then, oddly enough, it subsided. He looked at his hand, and to his amazement the burn and blisters were going away.

Uh oh…

I enjoyed your descriptions of the equipment very much. You have a great sense of detail, providing just enough to make the scene vivid and doing it in an unobtrusive way.

I’m ready to read some more!

S' comin, love, it's comin.

Chapter Two: Exodus


27th Frostfall, 4E 194, Ten of the Morning Watch
Mandel


"We've arrived," he said as they stepped into the smoking shantytown of the Dawnstar mines. The shouts of miners and sailors, and the squalls of gulls permeated the air, along with trash fires and the smell of roasting gods-know-what. The siblings were walking along a narrow alley between a smithy and a tavern. Both were insufferably loud. Mandel tried to block out the noise by recounting the events of the past two days.

They had given their parents a burial, though no remains were found. Mandel placed the surcoat and helm on a wreath of snowberries, and Svelki haltingly read the blessing her mother had taught her. "May Mara preserve you, Arkay guide you, and Talos receive you." They had departed tearfully, carrying what they could. There was nothing for them there, but Mandel swore an oath, that by the Gods, they would return. And they would make a life anew. It was only right to honor their parents in this way.

They were looking for someone in Dawnstar, an old friend. Corporis Fumo, the Plague Doctor. He had cured them and their parents in that year of 187, and took no fee. Mandel could not remember much about him, only he was shrouded in the smoke produced by that bird-beaked mask. He shivered. The man was kind, but...no honest man would mask his face. Of course, they wouldn't have to find him if not for Mandel's stupidity. He had broken his arm after falling down into a gully. Svelki had manged to keep it stable, but she couldn't mend the break. She'd used Restoration to sew the muscles together, than a mild Alteration spell to keep the arm from moving. It hurt like all get thee hence, but he could bear it. They knew he lived in the slums, impoverished as he was. After about a half hour of rumors, questions and bribes, they found it. It was a one-room cabin, decent looking enough for a respectable healer.

They stepped inside. Immediately choked from the smoke of a fire burning in the hearth, they covered their noses and mouths. They saw him sitting in a chair by the fire, smoking, of all things. "Corporis? It's me, Mandel Skjori. You knew my father." "The Doctor stood, speaking in a lilting accent through his mask. "My, my, Mandel. How you've grown. I am here, nearly an old, blind man, and you are only just beginning to...realize your full potential." He coughed and, to the children's surprise, threw a pail of water on the fire, letting the room be lit by the candles on the hearth. He then, also surprisingly, took off his mask to reveal the face of a young, dark-haired Imperial. "I reckon I can drop the act with you three, since you seem in urgent need of my services." "But...I thought you were an old disfigured blind man!" "Nah, just part of the mystique. I was an actor before I attended the Collegium Alchemicum. I was sent here and...I kind of made up this little character for myself. It helps me forget my money worries. Oh, and my name's Miller. Windy Miller."

They all stared at him for a minute or so. "Riiiiight. Well, um, yes... I have a broken arm, if you could, um, do your healing thing...like you do." "Certainly," the doctor said, hovering over the arms, his hands expertly poised, "Svelki, my girl, would you please dispel your Oakflesh?" Svelki did so. "Wonderful. Now, this will hurt, so brace yourself," he said as he placed his hands on either side of the break, gleaming with a soft golden light. Mandel sucked in his breath and bit down on his coat sleeve, while Klargus took the liberty of restraining his legs. Windy narrowed his eyes, and scowled, counting in a slow, concentrated voice. "One, two, three!" He swept his hands from the break to the shoulder and wrist on either side. The result was the two sections of bone snapping together forcefully. "Fokke! Fokkefokkefokkefokke!" He raised his arm, testing it. "Oh...skitt, that hurt." Klargus and Svelki breathed a sigh of relief, and Windy stood up, dusting his hands. "That was a nasty break," he said, wiping the sweat from his face. "You're lucky it didn't turn gangrenous."

All of the children were starting towards the door when a loud pounding sound came from outside, accompanied by a hoarse voice. "Open up, old man! We have some questions for you!" Windy Miller tensed, motioning toward the back of the room. The siblings ran back, hiding behind the square hearth and chimney. Windy dropped a smoking bundle of lavender into his mask, strapping it on and stoking the fire in the hearth, filling the room with smoke. Mandel also saw him pick up a thin-bladed dagger. He hunched himself over, opening the door. "Yes? What is it you want of me? I am only a poor old healer, and I have no money." Two armored men shoved their way in, their faces hidden by helms, and drew swords. "Can it, geezer. We know they're here. Got a tip from a very reliable source. A fresh puff of smoke filled the room, darkening it even more. The sickly sweetness of the lavender was nauseating. "I do not know what you mean. I have not even a cat for company, ever since my dear wife passed so many years ago. Sweet Lucinda...how I miss her." "Don't play dumb, old fool. We saw the children come in. we have orders to kill them, straight from the Jarl's desk. They are assassins wanted in all nine holds."

Windy cocked his head, then nodded. "I think, perhaps, I know who you mean. Please, step back here..." Mandel was about to kill the man when Windy stepped behind one of the warriors and stabbed him in the back of the neck. Before his companion could counter, Mandel stepped forward and cut him down. He was surprised he knew how. The man's plate gave way surprisingly easy to the blackened iron blade. After they both fell to the floor, Windy stabbed them both again after removing their helmets. He took off the mask, his face drenched with sweat. "Those men were probably affiliated with those who attacked your farm. Even if not, they have friends in high places. This is knight's armor. For a pair of thugs, this is not even a dream. And it bears no standard, so they're not from a mercenary army or one of the belligerents in our quaint little war."

"This is some serious skitt you're into, kids. I need to think. In the mean time, just stay here. don'tgo outside, whatever you do." Windy sat down in a chair by the fire, deep in thought. He then went to a chest in the back of the house, pulling out several scrolls and books, poring over them for several hours. He eventually came to the children, holding two small scrolls and three coin purses. He spoke, with a grave look on his face.

"I know this is going to be hard but...you have to split up. Three people traveling separately are harder to track, and, I suppose, kill, than a group of three. I have some money saved I use to help the poor, and I'll divvy it up between you. Klargus, you have no wish to be a warrior. The Bard's College is for you. Svelki, the College of Winterhold. Feralda is a friend of mine, and they're always looking to bolster the ranks. Mandel, you'll go to Whiterun, find work with the militia. The Companions are not for you, not yet, but a bunch of young men like yourself will whet your blade fine. Now, here's your coin, and here's a commendation for you, Klargus and Svelki."

The three siblings looked at each other, tearful. They knew he was right, it made perfect sense. But the idea was so...wrong. They had been through everything together, but now they had to go their own way. "I love you both," Mandel said, embracing his brother and sister. "Come find me if you need anything, anything, do you hear? Send a courier, even." Svelki spoke, her voice quavering. "We'll come back home, someday. But we need to grow, become strong. We need to become Ma and Da, only the children our ourselves." She smiled through her tears. "After a year, let's meet up at home and swap stories of our adventures, eh?" Klargus was smiling now, too. "I'll regale you with my poems and sonnets. It will be great. Now, are we ready, Skjoris, or aren't we?" Mandel cracked a grin. "Damn right we are. Let's go, and you kids better damn well write, eh?" They walked out the door, engaged in one final long embrace, and went their separate ways. Windy sighed as he watched them go. They were going to have a hard time of it, those kids, but...he believed in them. He looked at the bodies in his cabin, and sighed again. He was going to have to get rid of those. Oh, well.

Another enjoyable chapter to read, and I liked Miller/Corporus in this (Corporus is the perfect name for a plague doctor, btw); it was fun to have the mysterious and slightly frightening beaked physician actually be a rather approachable sort who's just putting it on as an act.


Absolutely loved this little line, btw.

If there is one thing to say, it's that it would make it way easier to read if you put in a new line when a character starts speaking; as it is, mixing speech up with big paragraphs makes it difficult to read, especially as people tend to inadvertently start skipping stuff when there are big blocks of text in a story.

I kinda edited the parts that didn't make, because they are stupid, and I am not.

I will catch up on this tomorrow morning, lol

Mandel is quite an intriguing character! I enjoyed seeing how he put his act together before he answered the door. Great choice to send Klargus to the Bard’s College. I wonder how the next year will go for the three siblings.

29th Frostfall, 4E 194, 7 of the Morning Watch
Svelki

The bitter morning cold permeated the sea air. The high winds and icy spray were no help either. Svelki hugged her coat tightly about herself. She was on her way to Winterhold, she reminded herself, and she'd have to get used to the cold. She had spent the night before in the cabin of a longboat, a trading vessel on their way to Morrowind, who would make a stop-over in Winterhold. The oarsmen chanted in Dunmeri as they rowed, their bare chests sweaty and muscled. The sky was overcast, as it usually was in the Sea of Ghosts.

"Isra, isra!" (Row, row!) The captain urged the rowers on. "We should land in Winterhold around midday, sera."

"Juohn, Sera. Juli ouakhas, solsif ouafe." (Thank you, sir. Good ship, cold sea.)

"No need to use Dunmeri, miss," the captain responded in perfect Nordic, "I deal with the locals on a regular basis, so I can speak the language. And your pronunciation is gods-awful," he said, chuckling.

An exclamation from the lookout sent the men who weren't rowing to the side of the longship. Another vessel with black sails and shields mounted on the sides was heaving to in their direction. "Raiders. Fokke." The captain turned to a female Dunmer who was quickly flipping through a spellbook.

"Are they here?" he asked anxiously.

"I don't know, I have to call them first."

"Well hurry, they'll be loosing arrows soon enough!"

"I know, I know I just have to...there!", she exclaimed, pointing to a portion of the book.

The Dark Elf waved her hands, creating a complicated magical symbol, runed and blue, floating in the air. With a final thrust of her open hand, it dispersed, and a few seconds later, the sea erupted.

Huge objects burst through the surface of the ocean, creating massive wakes. The mage held the ship steady with Alteration spells, repairing and maintaining the cracked and warped wood as the ship was tossed to and fro. When the tumult had died down, Svelki looked over the still white water. The raider ship lay smashed, bodies floating alongside timbers and bits of sail. She was still confused as to what had caused the massive destruction. "What was that?"

The Dunmer girl smiled and pointed across the waves. "Look." Within seconds, Svelki understood. Her mouth agape, she realized what the mage had called. "Whales." Their bony crests breaking the surface, six huge fins at their sides, they shot steam into the air in a glorious show. Their low, deep calls were bone-shaking, and within minutes, they were gone.

The captain put his arm around the girl and grinned. "My daughter. She studied with the Telvanni for a year, and now she's the best whale-caller in the Sea. I'm so proud of her, getting into the family business."

Svelki had to cover her face to hide her tears. "That was amazing what you did there. I...I feel sick, I think I need to lie down. She ran into the cabin, and began sobbing softly."

I love how the Dunmeri mage called whales to their aid! Then the use of Alteration to repair the ship was really neat.

Poor Svelki. That was a lot to take in. Being a mage will not keep her away from violence.

Regarding the violence: That's an interesting connection to make. I was going for more of "Oh, her father's dead, so she'll never receive the same praise and admiration in her life". Maybe I'm just bad at this.

Yikes, I really should have made that connection. I was focused on what it would be like to watch those guys drown while your own ship was being repaired in the water. The father part was right there, I should have seen it. Sorry about that, and thanks for straightening me out!

Don't let me dictate what you can and can't interpret. It's a piece of writing, thats what it's for.

Okay, all caught up now. So far it is a fun story, and obviously Mandel is the Dragonborn. You have some nice touches, such as with the burning hot sword. The fact that Dragon Knights are hunting him is another big cue of course. It is nice to see that as well as from his pov, you are also presenting this story from the view of his two siblings as well, and letting us see Skyrim through their eyes as well. I especially liked the Dunmer mage calling whales to deal with the pirates. It makes a lot of sense in a magical world. That is one of the things I love seeing best in magical settings, seeing magic being used in creative ways beyond "blast him!"

They knew that come death or daedra, the divines would provide.
This is a nice, setting-fitting phrase.

Plain, unaccented Cyrodiilic.
And the TES equivalent of a Mid-Western accent!

He was a Nord, and mountain iron was his metal.
Another good bit of world-building, and character-building, here.

I liked your invention of the world Fokke. Though I must admit I keep thinking that there should be a Wulf after it, or at least an 'r'. But then it would be a fighter plane. Seriously though, we all wrestle with the swear filter, and finding ways around it can be a pain. Still, even if there was not a filter, I think I would prefer reading invented words. I do love it when books and shows use their own curses, like Frak or Frell.

Oh, and was I the only one looking for a blue guard callbox in The Doctor's house?


nits:
Hokay, this is going to be big, but try not let it daunt you. The whole idea to offer criticism is to help us be better writers, and we can all use someone to point out our goofs. That is why editors exist after all.

Post #10
"It seems that our only choice is to now make all haste to Dawnstar, then, and tell the Jar{l}, what has happened."
Looks like your 'l' in Jarl got burned down with the farm...


Post #24
{"}The Doctor stood, speaking in a lilting accent through his mask.
You have an extra quotation mark at the beginning of this sentence.

They stepped inside. Immediately choked from the smoke of a fire burning in the hearth, they covered their noses and mouths. They saw him sitting in a chair by the fire, smoking, of all things. "Corporis? It's me, Mandel Skjori. You knew my father." "The Doctor stood, speaking in a lilting accent through his mask. "My, my, Mandel. How you've grown. I am here, nearly an old, blind man, and you are only just beginning to...realize your full potential." He coughed and, to the children's surprise, threw a pail of water on the fire, letting the room be lit by the candles on the hearth. He then, also surprisingly, took off his mask to reveal the face of a young, dark-haired Imperial. "I reckon I can drop the act with you three, since you seem in urgent need of my services." "But...I thought you were an old disfigured blind man!" "Nah, just part of the mystique. I was an actor before I attended the Collegium Alchemicum. I was sent here and...I kind of made up this little character for myself. It helps me forget my money worries. Oh, and my name's Miller. Windy Miller."

When you change speakers, start a new paragraph, otherwise it gets confusing to read. For example, I would suggest changing the above to:

They stepped inside. Immediately choked from the smoke of a fire burning in the hearth, they covered their noses and mouths. They saw him sitting in a chair by the fire, smoking, of all things. "Corporis? It's me, Mandel Skjori. You knew my father."

The Doctor stood, speaking in a lilting accent through his mask. "My, my, Mandel. How you've grown. I am here, nearly an old, blind man, and you are only just beginning to...realize your full potential." He coughed and, to the children's surprise, threw a pail of water on the fire, letting the room be lit by the candles on the hearth.

He then, also surprisingly, took off his mask to reveal the face of a young, dark-haired Imperial. "I reckon I can drop the act with you three, since you seem in urgent need of my services." "

But...I thought you were an old disfigured blind man!"

"Nah, just part of the mystique. I was an actor before I attended the Collegium Alchemicum. I was sent here and...I kind of made up this little character for myself. It helps me forget my money worries. Oh, and my name's Miller. Windy Miller."


Also, instead of using boldface on words for emphasis, you might consider italics instead. This is no hard and fast rule, just a personal opinion for you to take or leave. Ialics are more common, and when people see bold on the internet, the first reaction for many is to think it is a link.


{d}on't{}go outside, whatever you do.
You missed the capitalization of the first word of this sentence, as well as the space between 'Don't' and 'go'.



Windy sighed as he watched them go. They were going to have a hard time of it, those kids, but...he believed in them. He looked at the bodies in his cabin, and sighed again. He was going to have to get rid of those. Oh, well.
You made the common mistake of head-hopping here. The rest of this piece was written from Mandel's point of view. But with these final sentences you suddenly shifted to that of Windy. Whenever you change point of view characters, be sure you end the scene completely, and start a new scene. Like you did in Post #10, where the first scene is from Mandel's pov, and the second from the Big Bad's. A good way of thinking of pov characters and head-hopping is to imagine that your story is a movie. Pretend you have only one camera, and one microphone, and both are attached to the point of view character's head. So the reader only sees what the pov character sees, only hears what they hear, and is only to privy to the thoughts and emotions of that one character. Otherwise it gets very confusing to the reader.

Alrighty.

30th Frostfall, 4E 194, 10 of the Morning Watch
Klargus

A cool morning mist wafted over the western edge of the Whiterun tundra. Birdsong flowed on the same wind, tranquil and serene. Klargus gazed upon the grand vistas before him, the wide rapids of the Karth, the gnarled ancient pines, and the snow capped mountains. Mountains everywhere you look, I swear.

He took his map from his pack, along with an apple that fell out when he unrolled it. Haha! Only three more miles to Dragon Bridge! He rolled the map pack up, gave the apple a quick sleeve polish, and munched as he walked. To his puzzlement, he heard ravens croaking and saw smoke rising from the bottom of a small valley.

When he went to investigate, he nearly choked on his apple. There at the bottom of the valley was the last remains of a battle. He was nauseated as he saw the smoldering wreckage and mangled corpses. Between the smoke and fire, he saw two blue figures, locked in combat.

He cautiously made his way down, avoiding the bodies and flames. Sadly, he could not escape the stench. As he got closer, he could hear the two ghosts (for that is what they were) shouting at each other.

"You skeever-suckling swine! The deployment of Flame Wall spells is specifically prohibited in the Code of War, Section 7 "On the Use of Magick and Spells", Subsection 2 "Flame and Fyre", Part 11 "Wall and Barrier Spells", by Gaiden Shinji, First Era 950!"

"Pah! There are no rules in war, only a man's honor...And a man who charges archers with lances has NO HONOR!"

"How Laconic, my slow-witted, traitorous, criminal-harboring adversary!"

"Nice fancy words, mah highborn, peacock-keeping, peasant-trampling lordship!"

Klargus let out a whimper of fear, causing the two things that had been men to turn to him.

"Who are you? I don't take any ragamuffins in my cohort."

"And I don't take children, Cap'n Womb-Raider."

"I'm...I'm Klargus Skjori. But who are...were you?"

The Legionnaire ghost spoke. "Praefect Praxedes Destrier, Fifth Cohort. And, I think you'll find the most," he bowed, "courteous of company."

The Stormcloak ghost belched. How did that work with ghosts? "Bone-Breaker Hrolnov, Claw of The Great Bear. This pretty boy is a scumbag."

"Riiiight. So, what's keeping you here?" Klargus' mother had told him to ask a ghost this if he ever met one, to perhaps dispel its spirit.

"Keepin' us here? There's a battle on, lad!"

"You do realize you're...dead?"

The Imperial looked down at the blue-tinted black and gold of his armor. "Hmm. So we are. That doesn't make this ignorant Nord any less guilty of war crimes."

Klargus held up his hand before the Nord could launch into another string of insults and expletives. "Alright, right now, we're going to see you both through to the afterlife, whichever one that be. Does anyone know anything about this?

The Imperial stepped forward, and haughtily straightened his ethereal plumes. "Iiiiii happen to know all about exorcisms. Now, Nordy Boy, have you any pacts with Hircine, Peryite or Nocturnal?"

"Does it count if ah slept with a werewolf once? I didn't know before hand, if that matters."

"No, my lewd friend, it does not. Well, now we have to figure out what's keeping us here."

There was a pause. "Well, ah imagine it's us, innit?"

"Indeed, I hast reached the same conclusion."

"Although," said the Stormcloak, letting go of his opponent and looking at the carnage of the battle, " I'm not sure I'm ready to move on."

"Nor I," said the Imperial, removing his helmet. "Nor I indeed. I think I speak for the both of us, my young friend, when I say that we can manage on our own. It may take some time, but we'll get there."

"Aye. You're a good lad. Come and visit sometime, if we're still around."

" 'Come and visit.' I like the idea of staying here for a while. It's quite beautiful here. Perhaps my men and yours are relaxing under some tree or off celebrating in a field."

The Nord smiled at his former enemy, as Klargus walked away. "We ain't so different, you an' I."

That was a fun little chapter, the idea of the Stormcloak and the Legionary deciding to slug it out for all eternity out of a sense of amicable rivalry is actually quite a neat one (plus, in the Stormcloak's case, a very Nordic thing to do). There wasn't exactly a ton of plot advancement going on, but it was very entertaining in any case.


Line of the chapter, definitely! Though 'beforehand' is actually one word.

What a great scene! I loved it.

So the three siblings have split their paths. I enjoyed the plague healer character, Windy. Oh, and simply loved the whale-calling at sea, as Svelki sailed toward her magical calling. The ghost-fighting scene with Klargus was a very fun episode to read!

That was an amusing interlude. I loved the two immortal combatants locked in an eternal struggle. That is two men who love what they do! It is also a nice nod to the fact that a civil war is going on. It is easy enough to miss when playing the game.

Where are you Rohirrim? Better come back here and make me read this! Lol. I will read, coming back to you as soon as I catch up a bit. <3